Sorry Helps
by optimisticrealist72
Summary: Draco takes it too far and 'sorry' doesn't fix everything. Slash, Dron. Happy ending! Written for the Xmas Challenge.


**Sorry Helps**

_Having such a bad fucking day. Which is why this is about an argument more then Christmas. Sue me. Not only did I find out I was being cheated on for a month, I'm having family problems._

_**Forth in the Christmas Challenge – **So far: 1. Sirius/Remus 2. Sev/Harry 3. Draco/Harry 4. Ron/Draco_

_**Warnings: **Slash, Dron. Angst. Actually canon for once, mentions of eighth year. Mentions of sex._

_**Disclaimer: **I. Do. Not. Own._

_**Dedicated to Aali, who loves Dron. How did I do? ;)**_

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><p>"I don't particularly <em>care <em>what you think! In fact, I would be a whole lot happier if you just left!" The words rang through Ron's ears, taking him back down to reality. The bright red fled from his face like a dying flame before lighting again, but brighter. Angry beyond words, Ron stormed out of the house, planning to forget Draco Malfoy ever existed. He'd pick up his things tomorrow. He only wanted to get as far away as possible.

The argument itself was ridiculous. It was simply about whether they'd go to the Burrow on Christmas or Christmas Eve, Ron voting for Christmas. Draco just wanted to stay away from the redheaded rats altogether, but if he had to deal with them one day, it wouldn't be a holiday. There was no compromising for either of them. In all their arguments, neither wanted to give in. They were just too bloody stubborn.

Of course, they argued all the time. In fact, how they got together was _based _on an argument. In fact, Christmas was their anniversary. They had both been caught under the magic mistletoe in the eighth year and they were trying to decide whose fault it was. They had gotten so engaged in their discussion, if you could call it that, that they didn't realize they had steadily gotten closer until there was less then a breath of air between them. That's when Draco had kissed him, and that's how they got together. Years later and they still argued every day without fail, over the stupidest things. The difference between this argument and the others, though, were the final lines. _"I would be a whole lot happier if you just left!" _Pain ricocheted through Ron's chest as he thought of it. They never, not once, even implied that they would be better off without each other. They never went as far as to leave the house. They always ended up working it out by the end of the night, usually with some great make-up sex afterwards. But Draco had crossed the unspoken line tonight. Ron, though he rarely said it outside, was in love with Draco Malfoy. It never once occurred in his mind that he was overreacting. As a rule, Ron didn't _overreact. _Well, at least in his mind.

Ron could barely scrounge up the concentration to apparate to his flat that he had bought with the money he received for helping save the Wizarding World. Apparently being the one to help the Savior defeat He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named and destroying a horcrux got him not only an Order of Merlin, First Class, but also a large sum of money. The whole of the Weasley family were no longer poor, but able to even have allowances and spending money. So Ron got his new flat a couple months before moving in with Dra-_Malfoy. _

The door slammed behind him and he took a moment to glare out the bland room, with little more then a couch and a coffee table. If asked later, he would say he never remembered going into his room and falling asleep fully clothed on the bed. But he remembered the pain, the type of pain where you recognized that you were feeling it but you were numb to the actual feeling.

It was dreary and cold in the morning when Ron awoke and the night before didn't come rushing back to him until he had been trying to convince himself to get up, take a shower, and go to work.

The pain was back full force. With it, though, was anger. Sharp anger that cut through him, leaving a burning trail in its wake. His hand crept down to his pocket without his consent and he felt cold wood against his hand. Whipping his wand out, he was soon shooting hex after hex towards the wall, fury bubbling up, fueling him, blinding him. A red haze blocked his vision and he shot without aim or intent, only wishing to relieve the anger and pain.

When the dust faded, the wall leading to his bathroom was rubble, along with his shower. But he paid it no mind. That's when he started to cry.

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><p>The rest of the month passed the same way. Occasionally Ron would visit Harry, but Snape was always there with him, but it was only to be expected. They <em>were <em>married, despite how much Ron wanted to deny it. On the one occurrence both Malfoy and Ron were there, Malfoy to talk to Snape and Ron to Harry, Ron had turned on his heel and left before he punched the bastard. But he had noticed Malfoy's appearance. His normally pristine blond hair was ruffled and dirty, as if he hadn't showered in days. He seemed to have lost weight and were wearing old, baggy clothes that were stained and torn. Malfoy had never looked worse. '_He's beautiful anyways…' _His conscious had jibed, but he ignored it. Malfoy was _not _beautiful. He was a foul, loathsome little cockroach.

Not that Ron was getting along any better then Malfoy. He rarely showered and had been transfiguring random pieces of furniture into clothes until he got himself to go get his things from Malfoy's house. There was a small stash of underwear and pants, but no clean shirts were to be found. He had to convince himself to eat every morning, and even then everything tasted of cardboard. In work, Kingsley had him doing paperwork after being so distracted in the field he had almost gotten his partner killed. He had protested for a few moments, but his heart wasn't in it. It seemed his heart wasn't in anything lately. And, as much as he hated to admit it, he knew where his heart was. It was with Draco Malfoy.

That was probably the worst part. Knowing that he still loved Malfoy, despite his cruel words. Even if they weren't that bad, it was as if a part of him had died as soon as those words passed Malfoy's lips.

When he woke up this morning, Ron instantly felt something change. Something inside him clicked. That's when he realized it. It was Christmas Eve, and tomorrow was his anniversary. A sob built up in his throat, but he pushed it down. He wouldn't shed another tear over Draco Malfoy.

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><p>Ron had been sitting on his couch when it happened, a half empty bottle of firewhiskey in his hand. He had managed to put off drinking until late at night, so this was his first bottle. 11:59 flashed in red letters on his clock, and Ron took another swig. One minute until Christmas. At that moment, there was a knock at the door. At first, Ron ignored it. If anyone he knew or cared about wanted to talk to him, they would've used the floo. A moment later, there it was again. <em>Knock! Knock! Knock! <em>Ron grumbled to himself, placing the bottle where the coffee table had once stood – it had been destroyed during one of his rages – and walked towards the door. Drawing his wand as a precaution, he opened the door slowly. Staring back at him was a nightmare. It was Malfoy.

"What are you doing here, Malfoy!" Ron snarled, aiming his wand at his forehead. Malfoy seemed to have cleaned up a little, but his still seemed a little lost. He looked… sad. Remorseful. An emotion Malfoy's don't show often. Ron's heart seemed to stutter, though, as he noticed what was in his hands.

It was a lion. A stuffed little lion, with golden eyes and a red mane. Around it's neck was a green collar, with a silver heart pendent hanging off it. After a moment of silence, Malfoy spoke.

"I'm sorry." He whispered, voice sounding horse. Ron's grip on his wand loosened and the wand fell to the floor with a clatter.

"Sorry doesn't make things better." Ron hated how his voice cracked, how tears filled his eyes as he spoke.

"Please."

One word was all it took. Yes, Ron was angry, but he was tired of being angry for now. He hated the pain, the sadness, and the constant burning anger. He just wanted it to go away and leave him alone. And somehow, he knew the Draco was the only person who could take the pain away. He _wanted _to forgive him, with every aspect of his being.

"But sorry helps." Ron whispered. Draco seemed to hesitate, so Ron took the initiative. He threw himself into Draco's arms – for there is no other word for it – and kissed him like his life depended on it. Their lips moved in perfect sync and Draco lead them forwards, till Ron had his back against the wall. Luckily Draco had remembered to kick the door closed. As Draco re-explored Ron's mouth, their tears leaked down their face and mingled in their kiss, tasting of salt and relief. When they finally pulled apart, they were breathless.

"Merry Christmas." Ron breathed into Draco's ear, lightly biting his neck. Draco's reply was a whisper, but full of promise.

"I love you."

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><p><em>See, happy ending! I haven't done a lot of slash lately, so the kiss scene was hard to right, hence its shortness. Sorry! Hopefully this was better then the last story.<em>

_Review! Next up: Severus/Lucius_


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